


Untitled Moulin Rouge AU

by Shakespeares_Girl



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minor angst and Adam is a courtesan after Satine's own heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Moulin Rouge AU

“Please don't go with him,” Kris begs, looking down at his hands and then up at Adam. “Don't. I couldn't stand it if you—if _he_ . . .”

“Kris,” Adam sighs, closing his eyes. Kris can hear the emotion in his voice. “I have to. This is what I'm paid to do. This is—we knew this would happen eventually. I can't put off my patrons forever.”

Kris really looks at Adam for the first time in a long time. He sees the sleek black hair, carefully coiffed and styled, sees the skin kept pale and out of the sunlight, bathed in buttermilk and lemon juice to keep away blemishes, painted with makeup when even those measures fail. He sees Adam's body, carefully maintained muscle and delicate posture, so that he looks somehow fragile despite his strength. He sees the clothes, black and red and light, easy to remove or to tear away, the corset beneath them, shaping his figure into an hourglass he doesn't need. Most of all, Kris sees his eyes, beautiful eyes, made up like a peacock tonight, but blue, bluer than anything Kris can imagine, and so very deeply sad. Adam wants this less than Kris does, but he isn't complaining. He's strong. He can bear it. Kris just has to find it in himself to do the same.

“I don't want you to,” he repeats, but takes a deep breath and adds, “I'd never force you to do anything, not to go, not to stay. If—if this is what needs to be done, then go. I won't hold you here.”

Adam straightens and walks out the door. Kris feels like a piece of his heart just died.

It's hours and no time at all before Adam comes back, moments stretching into eternities, Kris' soul crying out that he has to _go to him_ , to rescue him, to spare him this final indignity, but also knowing that to do so is to cage something that shouldn't be tamed.

And then Adam is there, and he's falling into Kris' arms and sobbing, wailing. “I couldn't do it, _I couldn't do it_ , oh, oh god, Kris, I—I looked at him and I couldn't, I couldn't—but, but he _knows_ now, he knows and Simon knows, and god, Kris, I don't—I don't know what to do anymore.”

Kris holds him, lets him cry, keeps his arms tight around Adam even as they're dragged to their knees. “It's all right,” Kris whispers. “It's all right, it's all right. I love you. I love you.” When Adam quiets, Kris tilts his face up and kisses Adam's forehead, his temple. “We'll be all right. Just a little poorer than we expected. Go get dressed, all right? We'll leave early, we'll go get on a train and never come back.”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, then sighs and leans on Kris' shoulder. “I should be stronger than this.”

“You are strong,” Kris says. Adam's voice hitches into another sob, and Kris clings to the broad shoulders and whispers, “I'll never let go.”


End file.
